"Smile when you say that" :( A Coffee Saga......)

SHIT!
Roll out of bed late last Thursday .... well, 'roll' is too slick of a word here....more like 'struggle' to work two numb arms with radiating pain in the left shoulder (is it the PD? spinal stenosis? or just a likely torn rotator cuff?) ......as the Stones chestnut 'what a drag it is....getting old" plays on a repeating loop in my fuzzy head. Coffee...

Rushing to get organized I whack my toe but good into a 25 pound freeweight.....more pain, but not enough to do the trick... still not awake.....need coffee.....need coffee.....

Loop through the kitchen on a mad dash to the door and .....SHIT!SHIT!.....out of coffee!!! Ok, it's gonna be ok....will stop on the way to work for a good cup, something strong enough to defend itself....

Make it over to my Mitsubishi, the one with the skin condition ..... notice the air in one tire is low...no time....key in trunk and.....SHIT! SHIT!SHIT!..... the trunk doesn't open...another 'freakin repair ahead...

Cut off by a methed-out tow truck on a short but perilous drive to the local coffee spot. At least its a non-Starbucks place where they don't comment on the cleverness of your order in faux British accent ( "As, yes a fair-trade double whipped moca yaya deep fried unleaded moccafreakin'chinno in a environmentally friendly recyclable tall cup....e-x-c-e-l-l-e-n-t choice, sir!)

Definitely not in the mood for that.

Just coffee....Java, java, java its very near now.....things 'gonna get better......as my wheels scrapes the curb I know I've made it - slam the door shut, noting the weak thud as my last plastic hubcap falls to the pavement.....make it quick 17 steps into the shop....
hmmmm, maybe I'll order a nice piece of rugalah while I'm here....its gonna get better

I was in no way prepared for what happened next:

'Coffee' I mutter

'Sorry, sir...no coffee for you ' says she.

My blank but clearly pre-murderous look from me prompts her to elaborate...

'Ok....I can serve you....but only if you smile!!!' she beams.

'Just the coffee, please' I say.

'No.....I'm serious sir!.....no smile, no coffee!'

Now while I'm not a depresive, truth be know I'm just not a smily type --- especially ear-lie in the morning on demand.....still Modem's a good sport, and I tell my dopamine and caffene starved brain to wire a message to my hairy cheeks (...not those ones! the face, the face!...) to mobilize and pull skywards.....stand there for about 15 seconds in the effort .....nope, can't get it up...(hey! watch it! not that! the cheeks! the hairy cheeks! hey! watch it not those...)

My hands slam down on the counter in....
"JUST GIMME THE DAGNABBED COFFEE!!!!"

I note the calculating look on the pale young face of the counter girl as she wisely steps back to the hot urn of bubblin' joe and pours a measured cup , all the while keeping one eye pegged on the crazy man seething at the register. As she places it calmly on the counter and now looks sykward , raising her arms akimbo and launches into a sermon for the witnesses in heaven " very well sir....it is your life and if you really want to spend it bereft of the joy that a smile can bring I suppose that there really is nothing anyone can really do to make you ..."

..... I tune her out as a spiral column of caffeinated bliss wafts towards my waiting nostrils. I venture a sip, and the haze starts to clear, ahh to be human again, human again....her voice fades back up .....'just here to help and a smile helps all of us ....you really should smile sir" she says with a smile.

I take another sip staring contentently past her towards the pastry case.
Hmmmmm, maybe I will have that rugalah after all.....

"Rugalah" I say blankly...

"Of course, sir ...but only if you smile!"

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Postscript:

Made it out with only my coffee....tire now fully flat...SHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT!..late for work and spilled all the 'freaking coffee fixing the tire.......telling the story later in the day I found I couldn't help but .... smile.

Bastard!.....she won......

go figure....

:)

What 500 Channel Cable can Teach Us 'bout PD

Thanks to 500 channel cable I recently caught a few late night 'Kojak' episodes - 'still have more hair than that grizzled SOB but I actually used to drive the same Kojak car - a monkey-shit brown Buick Century V8 around the Bronx back in the early '80s.

So, they get a bad guy, but they ain't got the evidence and next thing you know they've got him hanging out a 12th story window held only by the greasy hands of a coupla'thugs - you know how these shows go - and either they drop him (rarely) or pull the broken and repentant bastard
back in and get whatever info they came for...then they wack him ......

At first, the diagnosis of PD is - if you'll permit a wide metaphor - much like being thrust out a window held only by an ankle - your entire perception, your innerscript of how your life would play out is scrambled and spinning -- but then

then...its different.

No one pulls you back in. No one drops you. Nothing happens....yet you're still looking decidedly at the pavement as if the goons who got you into this decided to go for lunch and cuffed your inverted feet to a pipe - and then forgot to ever return after 3 boilermakers too many....

I can accept complete change
I can deal with a brush with peril.
I don't know how to deal with this 'dangling'......and this is the crux of the existential challenge by the longterm progressive degenerative reality of P.D.

Part of me secretly envys the quick exit enjoyed by some. Take Omar, from the 'Wire' shot in the back of the head by young thug...never saw it coming...
As in all things, the anticipation of the thing itself is the most difficult to bear - all of us come and go....'suppose we all get a different view of the process depending upon our karmic need, tikkun, luck of the draw?
....go figure.... :)